Today I feel light and whimsical; my soul and my heart feel full and satisfied and nicely stretched, as if they'd had a good meal and a good nap and are once again able to yawn and sigh and look around them in contented interest.

I have begun to reevaluate my recent years' prioritization of pragmatism: If God designed life to be, above all else, good and beautiful, why do we laud a sterile industrial life of usefulness as the best of all possible worlds?

I think because we've given up. I had given up. But I'm tired of being tired, and I'm tired of living as though tomorrow will hold only responsibility and duty and part of a much-needed paycheck. Tomorrow holds adventure. God made tomorrow that way. And we can start living it now.

Kierkegaard writes, "Abraham had faith, and he had faith for this life." The man who fathered the faith from which our own faith sprang had faith that his promise would come to its full flower in his own lifetime. So will ours. So will yours. So will mine.

Let's get out of the bread line and grab up a machete and start hacking away at a place where no trail existed before. There are heroes and monsters and villains and things of great terror and things of great beauty and things of great joy and great peace and great fun.

I'm tired of merely existing. It's going to be a gradual process realizing the hopes, but it starts with reviving the dreams I had as a little girl: dreams of romance and adventure, dreams of doing something amazing and significant, dreams of changing the world, dreams of being necessary and essential and brave and beautiful and fearless and fought for.

Why not? Being practical didn't bring me what I wanted, and didn't make me happy about it. I'm going to relearn how to be a little more starry-eyed. Not that pragmatism doesn't serve its purpose (ha); but it's not the be-all and end-all. Love and truth and goodness and beauty are. Because He who is the Alpha and Omega is all of these things.